


A Little Bit Every Day

by Dinosauntor



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Assistant AU, F/F, can you date subordinates in 2019?, fucking your boss, just saying, parking garage sex, someone needs to make Kara the main character of her own crossover episodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21789967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinosauntor/pseuds/Dinosauntor
Summary: “Kara Danvers?” The name hangs in the air and Kara, still recovering, snaps her mouth shut at being directly addressed.“That's me,” she manages to get out. Her hands are hanging limply at her sides and she shifts her weight, feeling self-conscious about her clothes. “Um, if you don't mind my asking, who was that? Since you don't have an assistant. If you're interviewing...me.” She's too busy reminding herself to blink to notice Lena eyeing her hungrily.“That was my lawyer. He'll help me decide whether or not to hire you.”---Even though Lena Luthor has only been running the National City L-Corp branch for a few months, she's already fired 5 different assistants. None of them have measured up to her high standards or any standards, to be frank, and she's almost at her wits' end - until Kara Danvers walks into her office.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 88
Kudos: 1414





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read so many amazing fanfics I just had to try it for myself. let's go crazy kids. supercorp endgame.

“Ms. Luthor will see you now.”

Kara looks up at the first voice she's heard in over an hour. “Sure. I mean, of course.” Her voice is hoarse and she clears her throat, hoping he didn't notice. “Thanks.”

Following the man in through the double doors, she's too busy fumbling with her purse strap to really look around but when she does, she's immediately impressed.

Everything in the executive office at L-Corp is pristine. Every surface is spotless, every decoration carefully placed—and is the bookshelf organized by the Dewey decimal system?

A white leather, high backed chair turns in a smooth one-eighty and Kara, who's just looked up from the carpet, completely loses her train of thought as her jaw slackens.

When she applied for the new L-Corp assistant job, she was surprised it was set in the downtown headquarters. But she had gone along with it, having grown tired of her depressing cubicle at a telecommunications company. How was she to know that it would be _Lena Luthor_ herself conducting the interview? But here she is, her mouth hanging open like a surprised monkey's and her brain short-circuiting under the piercing green gaze of National City's local billionaire.

“Last interview of the day, Ms. Luthor,” the man says from behind her. “And a gentlemen left his business card at the front desk for you.”

“Of course he did.” The brunette's voice is cool and crisp, just like her suit, and her eyes don't leave Kara's. “Throw it out. Or keep it yourself, I have no interest in people like that.” Her tone makes it clear that _'people like that'_ aren't worth anyone's time, and he leaves with a nod.

“Kara Danvers?” The name hangs in the air and Kara, still recovering, snaps her mouth shut at being directly addressed.

“That's me,” she manages to get out. Her hands are hanging limply at her sides and she shifts her weight, feeling self-conscious about her clothes. “Um, if you don't mind my asking, who was that? Since you don't have an assistant. If you're interviewing...me.” She's too busy reminding herself to blink to notice Lena eyeing her hungrily.

“That was my lawyer. He'll help me decide whether or not to hire you.” Cutting to the chase, Lena inspects the nervous, pretty woman in the middle of her office and stands, crossing in front of her desk. She's been staring at Lena since she walked in and it makes Lena feel like something is in her hair, but she grits her teeth. These open applications were a terrible idea; half the people applying were after something else, whether it be her family name or money, and it's set her on edge.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Kara swallows and tries to form a sentence but she's never seen eyes that green in her entire life and her brain is clunking around like a broken-down car. “My name is Kara, I went to—”

“Went to National City University, and Midvale High before that. You're 25, you have a sister who's 28, and you currently work for SmartCell. I know all that. I read your file.” Lena's photographic memory always hits people like a brick, and Kara is no different.

“I...um, yeah. I just feel...stuck at my current job and need something more challenging.” She's desperately trying to sound intelligent, feeling very inadequate next to Lena's three-piece suit.

With a perfectly arched eyebrow, Lena crosses her arms. “Challenging.” The word rolls off her tongue and Kara is nodding vigorously before it's finished.

“Yeah. I have a pretty good memory, plus I've seen _The Devil Wears Prada_ like, fifty times, so I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

The eager expression on Kara's face pulls at Lena's heart and she's reminded of her younger self, excited to show Lillian her newest invention. The memories surge back and her voice hardens, years of learning her lesson turning this into a teaching moment.

“This isn't a feel-good blockbuster, this is a high-pressure occupation at a multi-billion dollar business. And if you think Miranda Priestly was bad, you have no idea what's in store.”

Kara is unfazed by her harshness and smiles at her. “So you've watched it?”

The comment catches Lena off guard and she narrows her eyes at the other woman's grin. “This job can be dangerous. I deal with a lot of volatile chemicals and my family isn't known for getting along with...people.” Her jaw twitches when she mentions her family and her eyes flash on the word 'people'.

“That's fine,” Kara says easily. She wouldn't mind a bit of danger, and anything has to be better than customer service. Everyone on Earth watched Lex Luthor's trial and knows about his penchant for hating aliens, but Lena is a completely different person and she seems nice enough that Kara can see herself working under her.

“I'll be in touch.”

Taken aback by the suddenness of the dismissal, Kara blinks several times. “Right. Thanks for your time, Ms. Luthor.”

As the door closes behind the blonde, Lena frowns. There's something about Kara that makes her regret sending her off the way she did, something that threw her for a loop in that flashy smile and those clear blue eyes.

_Don't do it, Lena. Hire someone that doesn't have perfect hair or a bright smile and sunny disposition. Hire a man._

Sitting back down at her desk, Lena scrolls through her emails until she finds the one with Kara's resumé.

Kara is halfway down the street when her phone rings with a call from an unknown number and she hesitates before answering, recognizing the local area code.

“Hello?”

“8 am tomorrow morning. Don't be late.” Lena hangs up on her before she can even respond, and she's left standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a giddy smile spreading across her face.

* * *

The next morning she shows up twenty minutes early with two cups of coffee. The short email Lena's previous assistant sent her had so little information on it that she's not even sure where to go, but she's waiting by the door with a smile and a steaming dark roast when Lena walks in, looking stunning in a dark blue dress.

“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”

Lena takes it without a word and walks to the elevator, her three-inch heels clicking on the linoleum. Kara follows her, trying to keep her eyes off the way Lena's hips are moving in her dress. “You have a few messages already, one from Morgan Edge, the other from James Olsen.”

“Ignore the one from Edge. In fact, ignore every future message from Edge. I hate that sentient bottle of cheap cologne.”

“Done,” Kara says easily, vowing never to mention his name again. “James says you need to talk to the DA again, something about—”

The elevator doors open and a man steps in, nodding to Lena. She clears her throat sharply, effectively silencing Kara until they're alone in her office.

Looking at Kara for the first time since she walked in, Lena squares her shoulders, refusing to acknowledge the eager expression on her face. “You are now my personal assistant, which means you will get to know more about me than anyone, on this planet or anywhere else. That means you don't spread my business around.”

Kara nods along, digesting the information. “Of course, Ms. Luthor. I signed the NDA and all the other forms this morning when I came in, don't worry.”

“If all it took to stop someone betraying me was a piece of paper, I wouldn't be in this mess.” Lena waves a hand at her office and sighs. “What did James want?”

“Mr. Olsen says that the DA is pressing charges against Mahoney again.”

“Dear God, will men never learn? Tell him I'll handle it.”

Nodding again, Kara stands awkwardly by her desk and watches as Lena settles in for the day. The CEO pulls out file after file from her bag, two laptops, and four cellphones, arranging them neatly on her desk before looking up at her.

“Ms. Danvers?”

“Yes?” She's too chipper for this early in the morning and Lena tries to be gentle in crushing her mood, but her coffee hasn't kicked in yet and she has a reputation to uphold, even as Kara's toothy grin makes her veins buzz.

“Do you know why I hired you?”

“...No?”

“I hired you because you were the only applicant younger than I am. I hired you because I don't need a chaperone, I need an assistant. Chaperones hover, assistants appear. I'll call you if I need anything.” Lena shoots a pointed look at her door and the message is loud and clear. Kara scampers away, her cheerful mood not at all diminished, and begins to familiarize herself with the inner workings of the city's most modern building.

The day passes quickly and Kara runs in and out of the office fetching coffee, bits of technology, more coffee, building plans, and faxes. The CEO stays shut away in her office and Kara relishes those brief minutes when she's in her presence, expensive perfume and a vague accent as Lena argues over the phone about billions of dollars or chemical compounds.

It's after 9 pm when Lena finally heads for the elevator. Kara chases her down, holding out the schedule for tomorrow with a smile that makes Lena a little bit dizzy as the doors slide closed.

“What are you still doing here?” Lena looks surprised to see her, and maybe it's because she's tired that one corner of her mouth twitches up in response to Kara's smile. The muscles feel stiff, unused, and with a pang of sadness, she thinks about how she hasn't smiled genuinely in weeks, months. Ever since moving to National City, in fact.

Shrugging, Kara presses the button for the lobby and double checks the schedule before handing it to Lena. “I was waiting for you to finish.” She says it matter-of-factly, like it doesn't matter what time Lena got done with work, she would still be waiting for her even at 3 in the morning.

“Move this meeting to 4, and I'm not spending another minute arguing with Paul.” Lena gives the schedule a cursory glance, noticing that Kara's shirt has come untucked. It's messy and unprofessional, an absolutely adorable, and Lena clears her throat loudly in an attempt to distract herself. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Danvers.” Making an effort not to look at Kara, she walks to the door with stiff movements and gets into her car, instructing the driver to take her home.

Kara waves shyly at the limo, feeling accomplished at having gotten through the day successfully without messing up once. There was a moment when Lena praised her and it's not lost on her that it's slightly ridiculous, her being complimented by someone barely her senior, but it wasn't condescending. She had navigated a scheduling snafu between two investors that weren't supposed to know the other one was in the building, and Lena had been relieved when Kara popped out of nowhere to distract one of the men.

“Good night, Ms. Luthor.”

* * *

“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”

The elevator ride up is the usual, Kara reciting messages and reminding her about the schedule. Today's is packed, and as her last meeting ends at 5, Lena realizes she has yet to review several new patents from her think tank. Locking herself in her office, she buries herself in work, rolling her eyes at the cartoon cow Kara has drawn on her coffee cup. Yesterday it was a sheep, the day before it was a pig.

When she steps out for a break 4 hours later, her back sore from hunching over a computer, the sight of Kara sitting outside her office door melts Lena's heart. The younger woman's mouth is slightly open and she's snoring softly, a book lying open in her lap. She reaches out a hand to adjust Kara's glasses, but catches herself, clearing her throat loudly.

“Ms. Danvers, you can go home for the night. This is going to take me until at least 11 o'clock, and I fully intend on crashing afterward.”

Leaning against the wall, Kara's head jerks up at her boss's voice and she jumps to her feet, stifling a yawn.

“It's fine. I have nowhere else to be.” Her legs are sore from the cramped position but the jolt in her veins at the sight of Lena standing over her chased away the pins and needles.

“Really, you don't have to stay here as late as I do, you don't run the company.”

“No, but I run the coffee and the coffee runs you, and _you_ run the company,” Kara says cheekily, and Lena doesn't argue with her. Strange. Normally she likes to be left alone, a lone wolf working the midnight oil. But she knows Kara has been outside her office for the last few hours, and it's given her a calming sort of comfort, that maybe it doesn't have to be so lonely, being at the top.

_'Heavy hangs the head that wears the crown.'_

_Shut up, mother._

Lena hears the words as though someone else is talking through her. “If you won't go home, at least come into my office. There's a couch.”

Kara's eyes widen and she pushes her glasses up. Her expression is a few shades off from disbelief and she won't meet Lena's gaze, and for some reason, she blushes. “Oh, no, Ms. Luthor. I couldn't interrupt your work, I can just wait out here.”

Not used to taking 'no' for an answer from Kara for anything, Lena regards her assistant with a new interest. “Well, either come in or go home. I won't have you sitting on the floor after a 12-hour workday, I'm not unreasonably cruel.”

“You're not cruel at all,” Kara says in a soft tone. She's conflicted; she wants to go in but it's been a long day and she's tired, and she's never had the best control over her thoughts when she's tired. And Lena's fitted blouse, tucked into a pencil skirt, the buttons straining at the front, isn't helping matters.

“Good night, Ms. Luthor.”

* * *

Kara's third week finds her sitting outside Lena's office most nights and getting into the lull of the CEO's schedule. She's not exactly sure when Lena has time to eat because she's only run downtown to get her a sandwich a few times in almost a month, and has mentioned it to her boss. They've grown close faster than expected, spending so much time in each other's space, and Kara has even made a few jokes about her lack of appetite, which Lena cracked a half-smile at.

More often than not, Lena doesn't walk out until 8 or 9 o'clock, and every time she offers her the same thing—to spend her time in the office instead of outside.

And every time, Kara refuses, saying that she doesn't want to distract Lena from her world-changing work, that she's fine where she is.

Growing more and more intrigued, now it's become a challenge for Lena. She's always hated losing, and as the fourth week of Kara's new employment nears, she vows to get the blonde into her office one night—just to work.

“Kara, how many times do I have to tell you, you don't have to sit on the floor?”

“I like it here.” Kara looks up from the next day's schedule, her glasses on top of her head. She has to squint to make out Lena's face, and it's so cute that Lena can't look away.

She says the same words she's been saying for weeks. “Why don't you come inside? You can sit on the couch.” It's like a scene from a play that they repeat every night, and Kara's answer is exactly the same.

“No, thank you. I wouldn't want to distract you, I'm fine out here.”

Lena's just turned to disappear back into her office, pursing her lips at the lack of headway, when she makes a snap decision.

“Ms. Luthor—!”

“You're right, it's not so bad down here.” Lena smooths out her dress and leans against the office door a few feet away from Kara. Attributing the butterflies in her stomach to not eating lunch or dinner, she looks over at Kara. “What are you reading?”

Shocked that Lena Luthor, head of L-Corp, is _sitting on the floor_ next to her, Kara doesn't answer and Lena plucks the book from her numb hands. _Human, All Too Human_. The quirk of a perfectly shaped brow makes Kara gulp. “You read Nietzsche?”

“I'm trying to,” Kara stutters, watching Lena read her book. She's turning the pages twice as fast as Kara did, but she has no doubt the brunette is taking in every word. “I have to read each sentence twice, but I'm slowly getting through it.”

“And what do you think?” Lena prods, eager to see what Kara will say.

“I think he's right about a lot of things.” Kara's eyes light up and Lena notices that she uses her hands a lot when she gets excited, gesturing as though it will help prove her point. And it does. “That we seek mastery over things we don't deserve to rule, and we're never satisfied even after we've ruined things that were better left alone.”

Getting over her surprise, Lena narrows her eyes. “Smart _and_ pretty,” she mutters, much to Kara's chagrin.

“I'm not that smart. I sometimes make bad decisions,” she says with a shy smile.

“Like the bad decision of sitting out here when you could be sitting on my couch?” Lena raises a challenging eyebrow. “I do wonder why you choose the floor over your desk, or an empty room, or even a stray chair." Her tone is teasing as she snaps the book shut. "You're on page 43, by the way.”

Embarrassed, Kara flushes, worried that she's annoyed Lena with her outburst. “I like reading out here,” she says with less force than previous nights.

“I insist.” Lena is staring directly at her and there isn't enough time for the words; that she would love nothing more but she simply can't bear being in Lena's presence because of some strange urges she feels when she smells her perfume or the even stranger thoughts that whirl through her brain when she hears her voice go low and throaty. From outside her body, Kara feels herself nodding into the hypnotizing green eyes.

The next thing she knows, she's sitting on the white couch inside the office and looking around her, afraid of breaking something. The longest she'd spent in this room was for the interview, and then a few days ago when Lena asked her to get her a file from her desk. She had spent an extra 30 seconds looking at the framed photograph by the phone—a picture of a younger Lena with her arms around a man she didn't recognize—then left the office in a hurry.

Starting back in on her work, Lena barely acknowledges Kara except to ask her to run to the printer. When she returns with the warm stack of papers, she sits back down nervously, like Lena might change her mind and kick her out, but she bends over her book and for the next two hours the only sounds are of page-turning and typing, and Lena's occasional muttered mathematics.

They leave at 11:30, and Kara holds the door open as Lena turns the lights off.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Lena asks as they step into the elevator. She's cautiously optimistic that she's set a precedent, and Kara nods.

“It was nice,” she admits, her fingers playing with the edge of her bookmark. She couldn't stop stealing glances at Lena the entire time and is still on page 43, but she smiles at her boss like nothing is wrong.

“You're welcome to come in anytime you're free, my couch is always open.”

With a shy glance that Lena can't read, Kara nods. “Good night, Ms. Luthor.”

* * *

It's almost three months before Kara is assigned something worthy of the title 'personal' assistant.

“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”

Like clockwork, Kara is standing there and beaming, and Lena can't hide her returning smile anymore. She tried for the first month but Kara wore her down, and now she doesn't mind starting her day with a smile.

“I need you to do me a favor,” she says on their daily ride up to the top floor.

“Anything,” Kara says easily. Maybe it's because it's her job, maybe it's the way she says it, but in Kara's mouth the words sound genuine, like she wants to do whatever Lena asks of her. Her enthusiasm hasn't dropped a beat since day one and she schedules Lena's spin classes like it's her favorite thing to do.

“An old friend of mind, Jack Spheer, is dropping something off at my apartment. It's not something that I want staying in the hall for very long, so I need to you drive over and bring it in when he comes by.”

As she's pulling up to Lena's apartment in the back of her limo, Kara wonders what it will look like inside. She imagines a smaller version of her office, tasteful artwork and elegant furniture and technology everywhere. The doorman lets her in, having been sent a photo of her when she was hired, and it's all a bit exciting walking down the hall to where Lena lives, like she's getting to see a side of Lena that no one else has seen.

Repeating the instructions to herself, _'bring it in when he comes by'_ , she looks the door up and down, feeling important. Her heart falls at the sight of a numerical lock, complete with a thumb pad.

_She didn't say anything about a code._

_Do I call her?_

_Which phone? The office? Her cell?_

The phone is ringing in her ear as she paces in front of Lena's door, glancing at her watch every few seconds like it will magically have the code written on it. Jack Spheer is supposed to arrive any minute, and short of breaking down the door—which looks impossible—Kara has no way of getting inside.

She hears the line pick up and anxiously interrupts whoever is on the other end. “The door is locked, can you put Ms. Luthor on the phone?”

“1-2-5-2-4-8-7. Your thumbprint is already in the system.” Lena's voice in her ear surprises her so much that she drops the phone, and by the time she's brought it back to her ear her boss has hung up.

Muttering the numbers under her breath, she carefully enters the code, afraid of what will happen if she puts it in wrong, and breathes a little easier when the light blinks green under her thumb. Several heavy-duty locks disengage and the door swings in, well-oiled hinges moving silently.

The inside is surprisingly dark, the curtains drawn, and there's a stale, unused air to the whole apartment, probably because Lena is always in her office. Kara finds herself drawn in farther and farther until she's standing in front of a futuristic-looking fridge with a singular post-it stuck to it.

_Groceries._

It's written in the handwriting Lena uses when she doesn't care, scrawled, hurried, and Kara isn't surprised when she peeks inside to bleakly empty shelves. A longer look around shows that Lena's apartment has the bare bones but not a personal touch, and Kara's heart twinges at the _emptiness_ of it all. Pulling a pen out of her purse, she draws a little stick figure scientist holding a flask in the corner of the post-it.

An unseen force is pulling her towards the hall, and she only comes back to her senses when her hand is resting on the door to Lena's bedroom.

This is where she sleeps.

Where she gets dressed.

Maybe she's even cried over an ex-boyfriend. No, Lena doesn't strike her as the kind of woman who cries over men.

The idea of seeing Lena's bedroom and the unexpected rush at the thought leaves her dizzy, and she hurries back to the door on unsteady legs when someone knocks.

“Hello, darling.” An attractive man with an English accent is looking at her with a sneaky grin, and she swallows, staring at the ground and trying to hide the guilty rush of blood to her cheeks. He's the man from the photo on Lena's desk, if not slightly older.

Her voice comes out higher than usual and she smashes down the jealousy that threatens to make it crack. “Lena said you had a package for her? I'm Kara.”

“Kara Danvers?” His mischievous smile morphs into a look of recognition and he holds out a hand, his eyes glinting. “Jack Spheer.” She shakes it uncertainly, not really sure what's going on, but he seems pleased to meet her. “Lena's told me all about you. Glad I could finally meet you.”

“She—what?” Kara almost chokes, dropping Jack's hand like a hot iron. There's a buzzing in her ears and she wonders if she's misheard him. Lena can't possibly _care_ enough that she talks about her to her friends, can she? She's just her assistant.

Jack smiles, stepping aside to reveal a small wooden box on the ground behind him. “She says you're the best assistant she's ever had. Don't tell her I told you.” He winks and peers past her into the apartment. “Is she home?”

“No, no. She's at work. She sent me to get...whatever that is.” Kara clears out of the doorway so he can bring it in. Her initial jealousy returns when he flicks on the lights with a practiced manner—clearly he's been here before.

“I thought she let you in.” He sets the box down carefully like it's a bomb. And it could be, Kara has no idea what's inside. “You didn't cut off her thumb and stage this all as an elaborate crime, did you?” His tone is playful but his eyes flash with a surge of protectiveness that Kara, oddly enough, finds herself relating to.

“She had my thumbprint put in,” she explains, her shoulders going back defensively.

He raises an eyebrow and the look he gives her makes her think she's given away a secret. “She never had my thumbprint put in, and I've known her almost fifteen years. Maybe if I was a beautiful woman like you, I could've shagged my way into her security system.”

Even as she blushes, something in her chest clicks into place at his words. How he doesn't seem that surprised to find her alone in Lena's apartment, his knowing look that makes her blush at all that it implies.

Kara is shocked by the sentiment as her brain catches up to what Jack just said.

_He thinks we're sleeping together._

The silence between them stretches to an uncomfortable length and he seems to realize he's said something shocking because he claps his hands together and steps away from the kitchen counter.

“I better get back to work. Excuse the ramblings of a mad scientist.” He closes the door behind him, leaving Kara still reeling from his comment.

She's never thought about Lena as anything but her boss, but if she has to admit it, she could recreate a Devil-Wears-Prada-worthy montage of Lena's outfits—not because she has an eye for fashion, but because Lena does, and she has an eye for Lena. An eye that always lingers on whatever designer outfit Lena's thrown on, cataloging colors, curves, angles. Everything is falling into place rather suddenly and her head spins with possibilities. She's had crushes on girls before and even kissed a few while getting off in clubs, but it was never really an option for her. She's dated men all her life, and why fix something that isn't broken?

Her fingers itch to open the box but she holds herself back, her hands curling into fists on the table. A tiny voice in the back of her head is screaming at her to leave, go back to L-Corp and find some excuse to tell Lena in person that she's gotten the package and smell her perfume and have those hooded green eyes burn into her—

The harsh ring of the phone shatters her daydream. It's Lena calling, and Kara worries that she knows she's still in her apartment, answering with a breathy “Hello?”

“Can you pick me up a coffee and two 5-hour energies on your way back to the office?”

“Of course, Ms. Luthor. You know, you really shouldn't put more caffeine in your coffees, it's bad for you and I worry—” Her voice cracks and she winces, hoping Lena doesn't notice.

As usual, Lena has hung up on her.

* * *

Sitting back in her chair with a sigh, Lena rubs at her eyes. She didn't get much sleep last night, working on a project proposal for a new air-purifying system. Eyeing her phone guiltily, she convinces herself that she did the right thing, hanging up on Kara like that. Always hanging up on Kara, before her traitorous tongue can give her away.

Thankfully, Kara consistently wears conservative clothing and the poor woman is completely oblivious to the way Lena looks at her. Jack teased her mercilessly the last time they got brunch together, trying to play matchmaker with them and meeting a stone wall of resistance from Lena. She wasn't going to get tangled up with someone at work, certainly not with her hard-to-replace assistant. She trusts him enough to not say anything to Kara about it, but he's always had an annoyingly belligerent interest in her love life.

“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.” Kara knocks on the door an hour later, coffee and energy drink in hand.

Lena narrows her eyes as the blonde sets the cup down on her desk, looking her up and down with an air of suspicion. One interaction with Jack and Kara is a changed woman; she's carrying herself differently, there's a confident timbre to the way she says her name, and her hair, normally worn in an average bun, is braided in a golden pleat that reaches the middle of her back.

“Thank you.”

“Anything else?” Kara's eyes are bright, and Lena's suspicions grow at how wide her smile is. It's usually enthusiastic, but right now it's downright over the top. She's tempted to ask the reason behind the smile but she forces her mouth into a thin line.

“Not right now, thank you.”

After Kara leaves with an unreadable backward glance, Lena throws herself back into her tax filing, but what she sees staring up at her aren't numbers and employer ID's. It's blue eyes and a sympathetic smile and a voice that whispers, _“You're not cruel at all.”_

It's surprising, how much of an effect those words have, months later.

Later that night, Kara slips in through the doors to take her now-regular place on Lena's couch. Her sensible shoes make almost no noise but Lena is acutely aware of her presence, forcing her eyes down and waiting for Kara to say something.

“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”

“Thank you, Kara.” There's an electrifying tension to the air, and when Kara sits down to read, Lena stands and stretches, trying not to notice the way Kara's eyes follow her every movement.

Kara, meanwhile, is convincing herself that it's her job to watch Lena, that's what she's being paid for. Every time she finds her eyes wandering or worse, her thoughts, she promises herself that she's just being careful. They're professionals at work simply sharing the same space, and with Lena's reputation for attracting assassin's, she would be a fool not to keep her eyes on her.

“Still reading Nietzsche?”

With an embarrassed smile, Kara closes her book. “Yes. I'm not a fast reader. I guess my brain is more wired for running errands than philosophy.”

Realizing that it came out accusing, Lena backtracks quickly. “No, no. I'm impressed. The only other people I know who read philosophy for fun are Lillian and my brother.”

“Um. Don't you hate them?” Kara says shyly, shoving the book under her leg.

“Only because they took philosophy teachings and used them to justify murder.” Lena's explanation is short, sardonic, and Kara immediately regrets talking about them.

When her boss bends over to straighten the edge of her rug, her blouse pulls in a way that Kara has never noticed on a woman. Seen, maybe, but not _noticed._ Certainly never fixed her eyes on the way she's doing right now and she's straightening back up and—

Kara lets out a very unbecoming squeak and stands up abruptly, her hands clutching at her book and smoothing her hair in fast, small movements.

“I have to—run. My...plants need watering. Good night, Ms. Luthor.”

And just like that, she's gone, out the door before Lena can say anything.

* * *

The next few weeks are filled with new outfits and long stares and Lena can't help but wonder if Kara is going through something. She seems both more at ease and more nervous around Lena, and the CEO can't figure out for the life of her why that is.

Unless Jack said something. _He wouldn't, would he?_

“Kara, could you come in here?”

The blonde shows up in an instant, almost startling Lena with her sudden appearance. “Yes, Ms. Luthor?”

“What does my Friday morning look like?” Lena doesn't look up from her schedule, trying to subtly inch closer to Kara, who's leaning over the desk. Her perfume hasn't changed and it reminds Lena of home—not the Luthor mansion, but what she imagines a happy home would smell like.

“Nothing significant is scheduled,” Kara says confidently, not needing to refer to the notepad she scrawls all of Lena's meetings on. “What do you need?”

“I want to reschedule this press conference. I have too many things going on the day before and Wednesday I'm meeting with Jack,” Lena says casually, looking up.

“Oh, I thought you—Jack Spheer?” Kara says, a little too pointedly.

Lena surprises them both when she grins at her. “Are you jealous?”

She doesn't mean to ask, but she finds herself wanting an honest answer. Her heart cracks slightly when Kara shakes her head adamantly, clearly taking her seriously, but the way Kara stammers at the suggestion sets off warning bells in her head.

“No, I just—maybe you—no,” she finishes lamely, flushing.

The tense silence that follows leaves both of them looking around the office for something to focus on, and Lena blurts out the first thing she can think of.

“Can you get me a coffee?”

Kara's eyebrows knit and she stares at Lena, a worried look on her face. “I just got you one. Are you feeling okay?” She looks a little _too_ concerned and Lena tries to shore her walls back up, telling herself that it's Kara's job to care, she's paid to make sure she's comfortable. Just how comfortable she wishes Kara would make her is her own business.

“This one is cold,” she lies. They can both see the steam coming out the top of the cup, but Kara just blinks and disappears.

Once she's alone, Lena tosses a report to the side of her desk and runs a hand through her hair.

_What the hell was that?_

_What exactly do you think you're doing?_

“ _Oh, I thought you—”_

_What had she been about to say?_

* * *

One morning as Kara is watching Lena get her desk ready, she can sense something is off.

“Ms. Luthor? Are you alright? You've barely touched your coffee.”

Lena glances in her direction and Kara realizes what's thrown her off. Lena is still wearing her sunglasses even though it's an overcast day and they're usually off by the time she's at her desk. The brunette doesn't answer and she poses the question again, shyly.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I'm fine, Kara.” Lena waves her away but the movement is interrupted by a wince; she pushes the glasses up, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Are you sure? Because you look a little pale. How much sleep did you get? It's probably all the caffeine, you know, I read a study that said–“

“I have a migraine,” she admits. She keeps her voice even, knowing Kara has a tendency to fuss over her. In fact, she's concerned in a way her own mother never was and if she's being honest, Lena doesn't mind it. But she's at work and she has an appearance to think about. She's in charge, and that means she doesn't have time for a migraine.

Kara immediately lowers her voice. “Can I get you anything? Water? I can close the blinds, if you like.”

“No, I...” Lena is fighting against the voice in the back of her head, the voice that's screaming at her that she isn't worth anyone's care, that she should just toughen up and deal with it until the end of the day when she can collapse in her apartment and sleep until the next morning.

Kara is fighting it too and she doesn't even know it, with crinkling blue eyes and messy blonde curls falling over her shoulders as she leans over her in concern.

“I'd like that. Thank you.”

“Of course, Ms. Luthor.” She hurries to pull the blinds down, completely disregarding the cord Lena has attached to them. Unlike her, Kara is tall enough to reach the handle on her tiptoes, and even through her migraine Lena can appreciate the way her body stretches, straining upwards as her fingers catch the handle.

“How's that?” Kara whispers once the office is dark. She doesn't have much experience with migraines but she's read that they can leave people in excruciating pain and she's worried for Lena. She has a meeting later that Morgan Edge is running, and she wonders if she should tell security to keep him out.

With a relieved sigh, Lena lets the sunglasses clatter to her desk and puts her head in her hands. “That's better. Dear God, I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

Kara gives her a tense smile, her lips curving up. “I know something that may help,” she says shyly, taking a few steps towards her boss. “I know that built up stress isn't good for migraines. I studied a little kinesthesiology in university, I could help you relieve some of the tension in your shoulders.”

Lena cracks an eye open, a slit of green in a pale, drawn face. “What are you suggesting, Kara?” She's too tired to make a smart remark and the aura around her vision is sapping at her patience.

Kara's innocent smile is covered up by her hair and her voice is low when she answers Lena, like she's afraid of what she's going to say. “I was thinking maybe you could use a massage—just your shoulders, or maybe your back. I'm sure you were hunched over your computer all night, despite telling me that you were going to get a good night's sleep when you left the office.”

Lena closes her eyes with a wry chuckle. “You know me too well.” There's a tense moment when neither of them says anything and Kara can't read her expression, then Lena sits up and leans forward slightly and she knows her boss is giving her the go ahead.

She hadn't expected Lena to _accept_ the offer. Hoped, maybe, but now that Lena's shoulders are there, soft and inviting underneath a well-cut blouse, she finds herself inexplicably drawn towards them. Before she knows what's happening, her hands are resting on the expensive shirt and she can feel every breath Lena takes, can feel the moment her boss stiffens up at the contact.

Lena, meanwhile, has to stifle a gasp when Kara's hands press into her shoulders. They burn through the cloth, hot and heavy, and a zap of electricity shoots up her spine, burying itself in her brain, the part of her brain that convinced her to hire Kara in the first place. The part that constantly calls Kara to her office for inane, silly errands that the CEO can do on her own (make a copy of this!, hand me that paper!, find me the number for the place down the street!), just so she can be in her orbit for a little while longer.

Slowly, Kara starts to move her hands back and forth, and Lena lets herself be lulled into the comforting sensation of her first massage in years. Kara is the first person the touch her with any level of intimacy—even though _she's_ _just helping her relieve stress_ , Lena says sternly to herself—since she came out to National City and left Jack behind.

In the darkened office, Kara's hands on her body, Lena finally feels like herself, and she releases a year-old sigh that turns into a moan as Kara hits a tight knot. It could be her imagination, but Kara's hands seem to shake at that, and she keeps her mouth firmly clamped for the rest of the brief, blissful massage.

The meeting later that afternoon triggers the migraine into a violent relapse, ruining the brief bliss that Kara's fingers worked into her shoulders. Morgan Edge is sitting in one of the conference rooms and acting like he's the most important man in the room, and she can't take it. Her office is still blacked out by the blinds and she longs to escape there, but he's discussing investments and properties and she knows she has to see the meeting through.

When Kara runs by the conference on the way to the break room she sees Lena sitting stiffly, her brow furrowed in concentration, but it's not the fake concentration she's used before when talking to Edge.

It's a concentration that says she's retreating into herself, and her hand, clenched in a fist under the table, is a warning sign that bothers Kara for the three minutes it takes her to boil water for tea. Grabbing an herb and mint mix, she takes a steadying breath and steels herself before opening the heavy glass door.

Morgan Edge looks up from his powerpoint with an annoyed air that dissipates when he sees it's just her—just an insignificant, bumbling assistant. He points at her to put the cup down and leave and goes back to his speech, but Kara doesn't do either of those things.

She has to clear her throat twice to get Lena's attention since the brunette is staring intensely at the table, her jaw clenched in discomfort, and by then everyone in the room is looking at her. Lena seems surprised to see her, checking her watch to make sure Kara isn't early (which she is).

“Kara?” Her voice is strained. Clearly she's trying to keep her head up in front of all the board members, but Kara knows her well enough to know it's all an act.

“Ms. Luthor, you're needed on the phone,” she says timidly, only half pretending to be afraid of the power of all the people in the room. Her awkward shyness comes to her aid, making it appear like she's nervous and in a rush, that something urgent is happening somewhere else in the building that requires Lena's attention.

Lena blinks once, twice, looking confused. She doesn't have time to fix another problem, she can barely handle Edge's grating voice in her over-sensitive ears. “Can you take a message?” she asks primly, very aware of everyone's eyes on her.

“It's extremely urgent,” Kara says, putting a note of panic into her voice. She brushes at her braid with a frantic hand, pushes her glasses up her nose. “The government man said something about needing a response _right now_ about the building on the coastline—”

“Lena, by all means. If you have to go.” Morgan Edge looks peeved to have been interrupted but his eyes glint at “building on the coastline.” If L-Corp needs help constructing those buildings, he knows they'll turn to his company.

Gathering her things, Lena follows Kara out with a confused but collected air about her and they hurry down the hall. Once they get to Lena's darkened office, however, Kara slows her pace and locks the doors behind her.

Lena glances around, confused. The computer isn't on, the phones aren't blinking with the familiar 'call holding' light, and the TV screen is blank.

“I thought you said someone was on the phone?”

“Oh. That was all a lie.” Kara grins at her boss, feeling like a teenager sneaking out of class. “I figured you wanted to get out of there.”

Lena just closes her eyes, shaking her head. When she speaks, she keeps her voice light so Kara knows she isn't angry with her even as she reprimands her trick. “That was an important meeting, Kara, I needed to be there. I take it there's no one asking about coastline buildings?”

“I just said that because I knew Edge wouldn't let you leave unless it benefited him.”

“Are you sure you're not a Luthor?” Arching a thick eyebrow, Lena gives her a pained smile. “But really, you shouldn't have done that—”

“All due respect, Ms. Luthor, you looked like your head was about to split open so I—”

“I don't need—”

“I understand that you're a genius head of a science and pharmaceutical company, but you don't seem to know anything about taking care of a human body. Specifically," she continues when Lena's brow raises, " You need to take care of yourself. Now _sit down._ ” Kara's tone is firm but not angry, and she feels a quiet thrill at the way Lena obeys her without question.

She takes a seat on the couch, leaning back with a sigh.

“Can you get me an Excedrin? Or something stronger, so I can pass out until this migraine is gone?” She's only half-joking since, once again, she stayed up far too late working on research and squinting at her computer.

Nosing her way through the cabinets, Kara's eyes flick between the contents and Lena, who is pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut tight against the light squeezing into the room.

“My mother used to say tea was good for headaches,” she says, reading the labels on the assortment of pill bottles cluttering Lena's cabinets. “I got you some, if you want it.”

“Sure.” Lena is trying to shut off her brain, knowing the constant grinding will only make things worse. She focuses on Kara's voice, low and soothing, and lets out a long sigh.

Kara's voice relaxes her in a way that almost makes her wary—the last time someone's voice had that effect on her, it was her brother. Her brother before he went mad, when she thought she could trust him and adored him, when she worshiped him.

“She also used to say that you can't make an omelet without breaking an egg,” Kara adds randomly, spilling three Excedrin into her palm and handing them to Lena, passing her the mug of tea as well with slightly shaking hands.

“I think everyone says that, Kara.” Lena swallows the pills with a sip of tea.

They sit there in silence, Kara watching every move Lena makes. A half hour later, Lena, still with her eyes closed, pats the couch next to her.

“Sit.” It's more a command than an offer, but Kara is more than happy to oblige. Anything to bring her closer to Lena and her expensive perfume and soft, perfect shiny hair.

Her headache has abated and the room is a comfortable temperature, and after another half hour passes, she crosses the invisible line with a fierce boldness she usually reserves for the boardroom.

Pretending she's fallen asleep against the back of the couch, she slides over, leaning until her head is resting gently on Kara's shoulder. Her assistant freezes at the contact, afraid of waking her up.

“Lena?” Kara's whisper is soft and full of concern, but Lena keeps the act going, sighing and shifting in her sleep so her head falls down a few more inches.

After one more try, Kara gives up on waking her and tries not to move a muscle, but a few minutes later she starts to hum softly. Lena can feel the vibrations through the blonde's chest and they start to _really_ lull her into a deep sleep. She doesn't even stop to think that it's only 3 o'clock in the afternoon as her eyelids get heavier, and when Kara helps her stretch out on the couch because she's fallen over so much, she doesn't object to the warm hands moving across her back, settling her in and draping a Kara-scented coat over her body as her head rests on the tops of Kara's thighs.

“You know,” Kara whispers to the empty room, “You're not nearly as bad as you think you are.”

Just on the edge of unconsciousness, Lena pulls herself back, hanging onto the words that Kara thinks are disappearing into empty ears.

“I know everyone says you must be a bad person because you're a Luthor, and I know you sometimes let yourself believe them. But they're wrong. And you're wrong. You are nothing like your family. You're such a good person, I just wanted to tell you, just once. Even if you can't really hear me,” Kara adds, resting her arm on Lena's shoulder. “Everything you do with your work is for the good of humanity, even if they can't appreciate it.”

“You're my hero.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays / merry christmas eve! i didn't super edit this but i had a good time writing it if u know what i mean ;) hope you enjoy.

A week before Thanksgiving, everyone in the building can sense Lena's rising hostility. She barks orders, stalks around like a mountain lion, and no one can look her in the eye.

Kara is the only one both oblivious and immune to Lena's change in mood until she overhears someone in the break room saying her name.

“...Kara Danvers, the new assistant.”

“She's hardly new, Harold, she's been here half a year.”

As she's walking by, she tilts her head slightly, slowing her step so she can catch the rest of the conversation.

“But Ms. Luthor's been friendly with her since the beginning. You know, I never saw her smile in Metropolis? She comes out here and hires that blonde ray of sunshine, and suddenly she's a giggling schoolgirl.”

“Maybe it's the sun. And she's not smiling now,” the woman points out.

“Not to _you_ , maybe. Just wait til Kara shows up in her office, I bet you she...”

Smothering her own smile, Kara strolls into Lena's office. The midday sun is blinding through the windows and she's just squinted her way through it when a pen flies through the air directly at her face.

“I asked not to be dist—oh, Kara. It's you.” Lena seems a bit put out, and Kara offers her the coffee and the smile. She's drawn a cartoon turkey on the cup, and Lena takes it from her without looking at her.

Kara makes a small squeaking noise as Lena's torso stretches with her reach; her sleeveless dress does _not_ cover enough—doesn't cover _anything_ , really—and the movement gives her a full, unobstructed view of Lena's cleavage.

Ignoring the sound and the unsettling tinge of lust that comes with it, Lena sits back. “I hate Thanksgiving,” she says morosely, sipping the coffee with a disinterested air.

“Why?” Kara hands her a few papers, her eyes locked on Lena's collarbones. She thinks back to her university days and the way her friend would pour tequila into the space between her neck and her shoulder, and has a brief, _very_ inappropriate hallucination of doing the same thing to Lena.

“Because the people I should be spending it with are either dead or in jail,” Lena says bluntly. “What does the day look like?”

Her abruptness is meant to be disarming, to distract Kara from the weight of the constant pain she carries around. For just a second, she thought she wanted to let Kara see past her armor and her walls, years of habit have her back to business at the first hint of vulnerability.

At that response, Kara is too shy to do what she really wants to do, which is invite Lena to her house for Thanksgiving. Lena probably has butlers and staff and a fancy Thanksgiving business party catered by a top chef, and she's far too good for Kara's cramped flat.

So she forces herself to look her boss in the eye and rattles off the schedule and goes about her day trying not to think about what Lena would look like sitting at her dining table and using her silverware and lounging on her couch afterwards. She tries not to think about how Lena's coat would be hung up next to her family's things, with Eliza and Alex flying out West from New York, and her uni friends, Eve and Jess, making the trip up from their research lab in Arizona.

Tries and fails.

When Kara comes in to read at 9 pm, Lena ignores that her hair is coming out of its braid, blonde strands falling over her shoulders, most likely from running her hands through it as she reads. She eventually loses herself in her work and only acknowledges Kara when she breaks the silence over an hour later.

“So,” Kara says as Lena is reading at her desk. She's nervous, having never bothered Lena with anything while she was working unless it was an emergency, and she clears her throat. The night has been quiet, and Lena doesn't miss that Kara has started on a different book. She's reading the second Lord of the Rings, blowing through it a lot faster than she did Nietzsche. “What are your Thanksgiving plans?”

With a tired sigh, Lena looks up from her papers, cold coffee in hand. “I told you. I don't celebrate it.”

Her flat tone makes it clear she's exhausted, done in from the long day. She wonders why Kara keeps asking her—it's no secret that the Luthors aren't family people. That the Luthors are barely _people_ people. So why does Kara keep prodding? And why does it feel so damn _good_?

But Kara is like a dog with a bone, determined and single-minded. “It can't be that bad. There's always pie!” Her optimism is never forced, and Lena gives her a small, grateful smile at the attempt to cheer her up.

“There's something depressing about eating alone in my office, Kara.” With a shake of her head and a resigned sigh, Lena dismisses the brief, unwanted emotions. “What do you have on the chemical plant? I need to start the review tomorrow.” Her eyes bore into Kara's and the blonde swallows tightly.

“You don't have to eat alone, you know.” The tension that crackles into the air with those words makes the hair on Kara's arms stand up and a fragile hope butterflies in her chest, urging her on. She doesn't understand why she's getting so hot under the collar but her desperation to break through Lena's desolate mood roars louder than the voice telling her to leave the room _right_ _now_.

With a humorless laugh, Lena sits back, pretending she doesn't feel the weight of blue eyes on her chest, her bare shoulders, her throat. “You're right. I suppose I could see what the city jail has to offer, eat dinner with my mother. It's not like I'm worth much more.”

Lena's constant, self-deprecating comments have always bothered Kara but she's stayed silent. This time, she feels suddenly brave and she sets her jaw, aware that whether Lena accepts or not this will change their dynamic.

“You could eat Thanksgiving dinner with my family.”

Lena chokes on her coffee, sputtering over her desk, and Kara hurries to rub her back, apologizing profusely as the CEO coughs into the lid. The brunette's hair is up so Kara's hand brushes against her bare neck, ignorant of the flush of pale skin at the contact.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? I'm so sorry, Lena, I—”

Hearing her boss's first name escape her lips, Kara snaps her mouth shut, her eyes widening with what Lena mistakes for fear and something heavy and unreadable. Those warm blue eyes are a foot away and she loses her train of thought.

“Ms. Luthor. I'm so sorry, I forgot my place, it won't happen again.” Some while ago, Kara had started referring to her as 'Lena' in her head with a soft undertone, narrating her day at the older woman's side.

_There's Lena, ruining her eyesight by trying to read in the dark._

_Why does Harold insist on calling the office when he knows Lena's in a meeting?_

_I wonder if Lena likes my drawings. She called one of them 'cute' the other day._

Lena is still silent, not sure what to say, and Kara's light visibly dims as she takes a step back. All of a sudden, Lena feels bad for her. She's almost 26 and has been bowing down to Lena like she's some kind of unrelenting god—not that she's asked her to.

Lena has always tried to be kind to her assistants, all five of them that she had before Kara came along. She's had to fire them when they were incompetent, of course, but she keeps a clean, professional line between them, giving them the days off that they need and paid sick leave, even taking care of a medical bill or two for ailing family members. But she's always been firm in her belief that they address her properly, that they remember she's a busy woman with a company to run, and as much as she tries to do for them, they need to let her alone and give her space.

Which is why it's so surprising when she gets over her coughing and looks Kara in the eye.

“You can call me Lena, if you like.”

The tension ratchets up several levels as half-lidded eyes flit between Kara's face and the tablet sitting on Lena's desk, an intense expression in the deep green pools and mascara slightly smudged at the corners.

Kara's eyebrows shoot up and she blinks a couple times, and neither of them miss her reluctance when she refuses.

“I...couldn't. It's not professional.”

“You know what's not professional?”

There is absolutely no missing the _implications_ of Lena's unplanned, rhetorical question, and Kara subconsciously leans closer, shivering with uncertainty.

“What?” she breathes, stuttering on the inhale. She studies Lena's crimson lips, perfectly lined and paired with smokey eye shadow that's getting closer and closer and her eyes are slipping shut and—

Kara freezes.

Lena is kissing her.

Her _boss_ is _kissing_ _her_.

The tension reaches critical mass and Kara moans. She's never kissed a woman before, but her body reacts like it's the most natural thing in the world.

She bears down with another moan. One arm braces on the armrest and another reaches to slide into Lena's hair. Lena's lip is between her teeth and the taste of Lena's tongue in her mouth makes her dizzy, and she's still reeling from the sensation when the brunette pushes her away, a horrified expression on her face.

“Oh, _fuck_ , I—I am _so_ _sorry_ ,” Lena says hoarsely, her chest heaving, eyes wide and wild. Her hair is coming out of its neat up do and she shakes her head. “I'm so sorry,” she repeats.

“Sorry?” Kara asks, still dazed.

“I can't believe I just did that,” Lena says, more to herself than Kara. “You're my subordinate, I should have never—I can't believe I just did that.”

The loopy grin that Kara is giving her breaks the tension and makes her chest tight, and she forces herself to look out the window as Kara bends over the desk to scrawl something on a sticky note.

“That's my address,” the blonde says easily. “Just shoot me a text whenever you're coming by.” She's acting like nothing happened but her eyes are slightly unfocused and lipstick is smudged on the corner of her mouth.

Lena just nods silently, still staring at the window. It's dark and she can see the reflection as clearly as a television screen as Kara makes her way to the door, looking back several times. She pauses right before she ducks out. Her voice is hoarse and low and Lena feels it creeping up her spine.

“Good night, Lena.”

* * *

They don't talk about the kiss.

After a few days of her and Kara moving around each other like polarized magnets, not touching but unable to break away, Thanksgiving arrives all too soon for Lena's liking.

The elevator up to Kara's apartment is nothing like her usual trip. There's no quiet hum of electric motors, no crisp _ding_ and smooth doors sliding open, but there's a mechanical whir and when the doors do open with a bit of noise, she steps out uncertainly.

“4A, 4A,” she mutters under her breath, a bottle of red wine in hand. Her heels clack down the hall as she scans the plating on the doors, pausing when she sees the gold _4A_.

_This is where Kara lives._

The thought makes her more nervous than it should. After all, Kara's been to her house—but that was under her instruction, for work, it didn't change her life the way tonight will. The stick figure scientist that she's left on her fridge says otherwise, but Lena convinces herself this is different.

This _is_ different.

This is Thanksgiving dinner.

This is a time meant for family, for gratuity, for the happy gathering of kinship spirits. All things that she's grown up without and become unfamiliar with.

_You can do it, Lena. It's just dinner. You've had dinners with world leaders and 10 billion dollar deals riding on them._

So why does this feel so alien? Like crossing a line, one more blurred line in her and Kara's _very professional_ relationship.

She fixes her hair, smooths out her green dress for the tenth time, and knocks on the door. And her heart most certainly _does not_ jump when a familiar voice calls out, “Coming!”

The brunette woman that opens the door is not Kara, and for half a second Lena is speechless, until she sees her assistant waving in the back, an over-sized flannel rolled up to the elbows.

“Hi! You must be Lena Luthor. I'm Alex,” the brunette says, sticking out a hand and smiling at her.

Shifting the bottle to her other hand, Lena shakes it, her eyes not leaving Kara's face. She's beaming, looking exceedingly pleased with herself that this other woman has accepted Lena's presence without comment, was expecting her, and Lena feels a brief stab of envy.

She wants Kara to be that pleased looking at _her_.

_Don't be ridiculous. I'm sure this woman is perfectly nice, if she lives with Kara. Your assistant, Kara._

“Pleasure,” she says, trying to keep the stiffness out of her voice. There's still an awkward moment when she can feel Alex sizing her up, and she glances down at herself self-consciously, wishing she had worn a suit instead.

Kara seems to sense it because she swoops in, locking Lena into an unexpected hug that the older woman doesn't return—her body stiffens uncomfortably at the almost-forgotten sensation. Kara's body radiates heat like an oven and her arms are rock-hard around her shoulders, and she's never noticed how _fit_ Kara is under all that conservative clothing—

“I'm so glad you came! This is my sister Alex,” Kara explains, stepping back, not thrown at all by Lena's lack of response. “And those two are Eve and Jess.” She points to two women who are giggling, heads together, and staring at her.

“You didn't say she was _hot_ ,” one of them calls out.

“Hot? Try _gorgeous_ ,” the other laughs, snorting into her wine glass when Kara turns beet red.

Lena can't quite hide her relief at the fact that Alex is Kara's _sister_ , and it manifests itself in a small smirk that Kara misinterprets.

“I'm—um, you're not—I mean, you _are_ —they're just being _twats_ ,” Kara raises her voice at them, a flush creeping up her neck. “They know you're my boss. I'm really sorry about the weird welcome.”

She seems wholly on board with trying to keep it casual and Lena doesn't argue.

“It's fine, Kara. Happy Thanksgiving.”

Alex slips the wine bottle out of Lena's hand and grins. “You're good in my book if you bring booze. Come have something to eat.” She's already popping the cork out as Lena hangs up her coat, pouring it into glasses and shooting the billionaire side glances every few seconds.

Lena hangs back, taking in the scene. Kara is laughing with Alex over a table piled with appetizers and Jess and Eve are throwing bits of confetti into Kara's hair. Every time she catches the blonde's eye, Kara flushes slightly and gives her an adorable smile, and Lena can't help but feel out of place and slightly panicky.

_This was a mistake._

Somehow, Kara reads through her poker face, because she comes up to Lena and whispers under her breath.

“This isn't too weird, is it? I know you're my boss, but I thought...I hoped maybe you could enjoy Thanksgiving. I always like having more people around, and Eliza will be coming by later.”

“Eliza?”

“My adopted mother. Alex's mom. She lives in Midvale, but she'll be here before the turkey's done.” Kara hands her a full glass and clinks her own with it. “I promise if you don't like it you can leave early,” she says, concern in her eyes at Lena's apprehension.

Finally letting herself relax, Lena takes a sip of wine. “It's fine, Kara. Pretend I'm not your boss. Your friends certainly are.”

Kara pulls a face and Lena laughs quietly. “Yeah, about that. I can talk to them if it's too much. I know you maybe aren't used to...this, but I just wanted to give you a better holiday than you're used to. If you want me to change anything—”

“It's perfect,” Lena cuts her off, and she's rewarded with Kara's dopey grin melting her insides and the feeling of a smile stretching across her face. “It's perfect.”

“Hey, lovebirds! Get over here, I want to play Cards Against Humanity,” Eve calls out.

With a disgruntled noise, Kara follows Lena over to the couch, sitting close enough that Lena can smell her perfume as they deal out the cards.

Halfway through the game, Kara starts laughing at one of Lena's cards so hard that the brunette genuinely worries that she'll shoot wine out of her nose, but the thought evaporates as Kara leans forward, shaking with laughter, and flattens her hand against Lena's thigh.

Electricity shoots through her nerves making her hyper-aware of the fact that Kara leaves her hand there much longer than necessary—through the next two plays, in fact—but she doesn't say anything, holding her body as still as she can because any movement might make Kara jerk her hand back and that's the last thing Lena wants.

God knows what she's going to do about it, but every time Kara laughs, Lena remembers what Thanksgiving is supposed to feel like.

* * *

A few hours later Eliza arrives and makes it clear that she's taking Lena on as a daughter, and Lena is just tipsy enough to go along with it and just sober enough to feel like she's imposing.

“You don't have to be nice to me just because it's Thanksgiving,” she says as Kara pulls the turkey out, her hard-to-crack professionalism gone from several rounds of party games paired with several glasses of wine. “I know that you've met my mother and everyone knows what Lex did. You don't know me.”

“You are not your family,” Eliza says, putting a comforting hand on Lena's shoulder. “You are a brilliant woman with a kind, beautiful soul.”

The wine must be getting to her, because her eyes start to water and she has to chase the tears away with a larger than usual gulp. Kara glances up just as she's draining her glass and bites her lip, her brow furrowing.

“Eliza! The point was to make her feel welcome. What did you say?”

“No, no,” Lena gives her a watery smile and waves her away as Eliza looks on kindly. “She's being really nice, I'm just...I'm not used to it,” she admits, her eyes flicking away from Kara's concerned gaze.

Kara's expression softens and she puts a hand on Lena's shoulder, then turns to shout at the rest of them.

“Turkey's ready!”

Sitting next to Kara, Lena can't help but feel _good_. There's something so natural about the laughter and the flow of conversation that always eluded the Luthor family meals that she lets herself get caught up in it, even cracking a few jokes.

“...and there was the time she broke that awful green lamp,” Alex recalls, swirling her wine.

“I was ten!” Kara protests through a mouth full of food. “You said 'the floor is lava' so I jumped onto the nearest table top!”

“Well, you always did have a very active imagination,” Eliza coos, rubbing her daughter's shoulder. “You must have imagined that the lamp wasn't there.”

“Alright, alright,” Kara mumbles, rolling her eyes as everyone laughs at her. She doesn't seem to mind, though, joining in the laughter after a glance at Lena, who's covering her mouth with her hand to hide her own giggles.

“What's the dumbest thing Kara's done at work?” Jess cuts in, pointing her fork at Lena.

Lena blinks, looking a little startled at being put on the spot. “Kara doesn't make mistakes,” she says a little defensively. “She's a very good assistant.”

“I'm sure she is,” Eve snickers, looking between the two of them with barely concealed glee. “But that doesn't mean she suddenly has the grace of a panther.”

“Hey.” Sensing her awkwardness, Kara slips a hand under the table and rests it on Lena's knee, and Lena's insides melt with gratitude and something that is _definitely_ inappropriate for Thanksgiving dinner with her _assistant_. “I'm as graceful than Misty Copeland, thank you very much.”

Everyone is laughing again and no one has noticed that Kara's hand is still burning on her thigh, her long fingers drawing little patterns against the skin, and Lena feels suddenly confident.

“Well, she did fall asleep outside my office one night. On the floor,” she adds, as though that will make the story more credible.

“Kara can fall asleep _anywhere_ ,” Alex supplies, reaching for more cornbread. “Did she snore?”

Turning beet red, Kara flings a bit of mashed potato at her sister. “God, you are so _embarrassing_. I don't snore,” she adds, angling her head towards Lena.

Lena has to bite her lip to stop the grin she can feel building up. “Actually, you do.”

Kara is covering her face with her free hand, mumbling about “secrets staying between friends,” and everyone is laughing, and Lena feels the grin break across her face, unlocking something deep in her chest, something that feels and looks and smells suspiciously like Kara.

They exchange more childhood stories and Lena soaks them up eagerly, wanting to know more about Kara. When they migrate back to the couches for trivia and desert, no one is surprised by Lena's winning streak.

“This is unfair,” Alex whines, shuffling the deck.

“Unfair? It's five against one.”

It's true, Lena has won the last two rounds playing as a one-woman team, after absolutely decimating the Danvers with Jess and Eve on her side.

“Maybe you should have someone on your team that doesn't know everything,” Eve suggests, sipping her wine with a sly grin at Jess. “Kara, would you—”

“Yeah!” Kara blurts out before Eve can even finish her thought. “That is,” she says, noticeably blushing, “If Lena wants me on her team.”

The shy look she shoots her boss crackles with the same strange tension as the day they kissed—oh god, they kissed—and Lena sees Jess whisper something behind her hand.

“Always,” she says, trying to keep her voice even and feeling as though her answer carries more weight than just trivia teams.

Kara and Lena win, of course, and no one misses the looks they shoot each other the whole time, the way Kara leans closer to Lena as the game goes on. And when Lena shifts so her legs fold under her on the couch and stretches an arm behind Kara, the blonde fills the space easily, hovering inches from Lena's side.

“And this round goes to the Danvers-Luthor team,” Alex sighs, tossing a card onto the table in defeat. “Kara, can I talk to you?” She jerks a thumb in the direction of the bedroom.

“Sure.” Kara hops up with a quick pat to Lena's thigh. “Be right back.”

When Alex stops just inside the first bedroom, Kara almost crashes into her.

“Whoa! What's up?” She grins at her sister's raised eyebrow with a carefree giddiness, her hands in her pockets.

Alex doesn't waste any time. “What's going on between you and Lena Luthor?”

“Going on? I—what do you mean?” Kara stammers as her face heats up, her attempt at ignorance offset by the nervous way she adjusts her glasses and the way her eyes flit back to the living room.

“You've been glued to her side since she walked in, you both keep shooting each other weird looks, and if you touch her leg _one more time_ , I'm gonna scream,” Alex says bluntly.

“I—gosh, well, I guess—I mean— _she_ kissed me!”

Alex's eyes turn to saucers and she pulls Kara farther into the bedroom.

“She _kissed_ you?!” Her harsh whisper cuts through the dark room.

“Yeah, a few weeks ago, but I got confused so I never said anything—”

“You are _so dense_ , Kara, I swear to god—”

“—And sure, I liked it, but what if she didn't?”

“ _She_ kissed _you_ —”

“And I don't know, Alex, I'm no good at this. I've never really been in love with a girl like you have, but she's so smart and funny and perfect and—”

“Shut up, shut up, just shut up for a second,” Alex hisses, holding a hand up. “The hottest woman in the city kissed you, and you _didn't do anything?_ ”

Kara shrugs, all innocence and naivete. “I didn't know what to do.”

“You kiss her back.” Hitting her palm with her fist to emphasize her point, Alex groans. “You _kiss her back_ , Kara.”

“I did that,” Kara says defensively. “I just meant, you know. After. I left the room and we never talked about it so I figured she must not really like me.”

Alex groans again at the pathetic disappointment in her sister's voice. “I would pay you a hundred bucks to go out there and kiss Lena Luthor.”

“I would _pay_ a hundred bucks to kiss Lena Luthor,” Kara fires back without hesitation. “I—”

The sound of a throat clearing behind her makes her jump, and she whips around to see a green dress and a guilty-looking Lena Luthor standing in the hall.

“I was just looking for the bathroom,” the brunette says in a calm voice, but her face is a study in anxiety and fragile hope. Kara's mouth hangs open, horror at what her boss has overheard reflected in her eyes.

“It's there,” Kara says faintly, a weak hand pointing to her left, her face pale.

“Right. Actually, I'd better go. Lots of...work.”

And with that, she turns on her heel and leaves Kara's apartment, the door clicking decisively behind her.

* * *

Lena watches Kara follow Alex out of the room and the second Kara's out of earshot, Jess and Eve pounce.

“Someone's in _loooove_ ,” Eve singsongs, nodding at the hallway the Danvers sisters disappeared down. “She's completely under your spell, what did you do?”

“Who? Kara?” Lena shakes her head, crushing down her guilt. “I didn't do anything,” she lies easily. It's easier to lie without Kara in the room, reading her body language. “We just work together.”

_And sometimes I wear clothing more appropriate for a cocktail party than a day at the office because I want to see her reaction._

“Yeah, me and Jess just _work_ _together_ ,” Eve says, hooking quotation marks in the air.

“But you want something to happen,” Jess pipes up eagerly.

“I really don't,” Lena says defensively. “She's a very good assistant.”

“Yeah, you mentioned,” Jess snorts. “What we want to know is exactly _how_ _good_ an assistant.”

Lena swallows and shoots Eliza a look that says ' _save_ _me_ ', and the older woman comes to her rescue.

“Girls, girls, don't tease,” Eliza says lightly, rearranging the glasses so they don't fall of the cluttered table.

“What's she gonna do? Buy me?” Eve cackles and refills her wine.

Lena freezes, too used to comments about her name and snide remarks about her wealth. Eliza's smile tells her that Eve is joking, that she doesn't mean it, but the words still sting and she wishes Kara would come back.

“I don't believe in the same things as my brother,” she says quietly, the old tone of shame and embarrassment slipping into her voice. “I don't think people have a price.”

Eve's eyes widen and she sobers up immediately. “Oh, god, I didn't mean it like that. You're amazing, really! We don't care about who your family is.”

“You don't?” The words are unfamiliar in her ears with only Kara's whispered _“you are nothing like your family”_ for comparison.

“Of course not. My family is a bunch of deep Catholics that disowned me when I proposed to this one—” Eve nudges Jess with a shoulder—“so don't worry about fitting in. You'll always have a place here. Unless you break Kara's heart.”

Lena takes that in, the words running around her head. She thinks about the kiss, Kara's lips on hers, soft and insistent, and suddenly there isn't enough air in the room.

“Where's the restroom?”

Jess points and Lena's legs move robotically, carrying her towards the hall.

She needs a minute to think.

_Someone's in love._

_She's completely under your spell._

She hasn't let herself think of Kara this way. Sure, she's fucked women. So many that she's surprised it's not part of her reputation, but she's discreet, and everyone seems to overlook ' _lesbian_ ' in favor of ' _sister of a mass murderer_ '.

Every woman was casual sex, fulfilling a need, keeping control.

With Kara, she wants to _lose_ control. It's a dangerous thought in dangerous territory, and she's so caught up in it that she doesn't realize she's outside the wrong room until she hears Alex's groan.

“You kiss her back. You _kiss her back_ , Kara.”

_Oh god._

Panicking, Lena turns to find the bathroom, tries to pretend that the conversation meant for her and Kara isn't happening between Kara and her sister, but her legs don't obey her. They stay rooted to the spot and she hears Kara's voice, the disappointment almost palpable. The same disappointment as when she finds Lena at her desk from the night before, or when Lena tells her she forgot to eat and _'can you just grab me a salad?'_

“I did _that_ , I just meant, you know. After. I left the room and we never talked about it so I figured she must not really like me.”

 _She does!_ Lena screams silently, her brain trying to shut down the wave of blind panic that threatens to take over. _She shouldn't, but she does!_

“I would pay you a hundred bucks to go out there and kiss Lena Luthor.”

Realizing she can't listen to Kara's _sister_ decide her fate, she forces herself to move into the doorway and clears her throat.

“I would _pay_ a hundred bucks to kiss Lena Luthor. I—”

“I was just looking for the bathroom,” she says in a small voice, her heart hammering in her chest.

_Did I hear that right?_

Kara's mouth is open and her expression reads like someone who's arrived at an important meeting only to realize they've forgotten their pants.

“It's there,” she says faintly, pointing to her left. The blood drains from her face and Lena swallows, afraid to look either Danvers in the eye.

“Right,” she mumbles, trying to think of an excuse and coming up with nothing good. “Actually, I'd better go. Lots of...work.”

She practically runs out of the apartment, past Eliza's call of “Lena?”, the older woman half-rising out of her chair.

Inside, Alex looks ready to smack Kara with whatever she can get her hands on.

“If you don't follow her _right_ _now_ , I'm going to hit you with something,” she says calmly, an imperious finger pointing at the door. “I swear on everything holy if you don't tell her—”

“Right. Right,” Kara mutters, running for the door.

She's a bundle of nerves, which only spike when she sees the elevator doors slide closed on a shell-shocked Lena Luthor. The bright numbers start to move and only when it hits 2 does her body snap into action, tearing open the door to the stairs and jumping down them like a mountain goat.

She bursts out into the lobby with a gasp to see Lena crossing the waxed floor, and, not caring who hears her, shouts across the room.

“Lena!”

The brunette freezes, then turns in a slow circle.

Everyone within earshot is watching them now, mumbling about _“Lena Luthor”_ and _“who is **that?** ”_

_Say something!_

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Lena hesitates, and Kara can see defeat etched in every line of her face.

“I just—you forgot your coat upstairs,” Kara says lamely, trying to ignore the twisting in her gut. She's completely at Lena's mercy; if her boss decides to walk away she won't be able to face her at work in two days. She'll never be able to face her again.

Lena is still standing in the middle of the lobby, still staring at her with eyes as big as saucers and a tragic look on her face. Eyeing the people at the edges of the room—people tend to hug the walls when she's near, as though they're pushed away by her sheer presence—she straightens up and slowly walks over to Kara.

Wordlessly, Kara holds the door to the stairs open and Lena walks through, her jaw clenched.

_You fucked it up again, Luthor._

Instead of heading back up, Kara tugs gently at her arm and leads her down another flight. With her mind still reeling, Lena follows her into the underground parking garage without protest.

Kara pauses, looks to see if anyone is around, then turns to Lena.

“Look,” she starts, “I need to say this all right now or I'll never get it out and I won't be able to stand that. I can't do this, day in day out, not with you all—not with you. So—”

“It's fine,” Lena says primly, her arms crossed. “You don't need to make a big deal out of it. I'm not going to bury you in HR reports, just leave quietly.”

It's the cut-and-run that she's perfected over the years, the surefire way that guarantees no one gets too close.

“HR—hang on, _you_ kissed _me_ , and anyway, what is it you think I'm trying to say?”

Kara is dumbfounded, her hands stuffed in her pockets, leaning away from Lena. Away from the poison of the Luthor name. She has the gall to look nervous, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction, and Lena grits her teeth.

“You're quitting. I should have seen this coming, I never should've tried to get to know you. It's all my fault, I suppose,” she says bitterly, “if I had never hired you, I wouldn't be...it doesn't matter. I accept your resignation.”

“It _does_ matter. I'm not quitting.” Kara takes a step towards her. “I'm not quitting, Lena, _listen to me_.”

“You're...not?” Lena looks genuinely surprised and a little bit hopeful, and it makes Kara's voice come out higher than usual.

“No, I'm not. I just need to tell you—if you want to fire me, fine, but I have to say—I like you.”

Lena blinks, the whirring of the basement fan making it hard to hear. “I like working with you too,” she says, not willing to understand.

“For a genius, you can be awfully stupid,” Kara groans, the words rushing out now that she's broken the dam. “I mean I _like_ _you_ , like you. I've read every article ever published about you. I got into a fight, an actual fight! the other night because someone said you would turn out just like your brother. I steal glances at you when you're not looking and I try to memorize your outfits, and I know how you like your coffee and that you hate salmon. I know you keep killing the succulents I leave on your desk by overwatering them and I know you only wear your hair down when you have a headache. I get up early and I stay at work late just so I can spend a little more time with you, a little more time with someone who's so far out of my league it's _laughable_ , and I only read Nietzsche that one time to impress you, and every day I draw a cartoon on your coffee cup just to see you smile.”

Her tone grows serious and her eyebrows come together to form a determined scrunch in the usually-smooth skin. “And there are so many things I'm not allowed to say, that I don't know how to say, because I've never felt this way with a woman. I thought it was friendship, but it's not, it's sharper than that, overwhelming, and I don't know if I feel threatened or if I should destroy it. I've tried, believe me, I've tried so _hard_. Especially at work when sometimes I can't tell if I want you or I want to be you and I never want to leave your side and I'm not like this—with _anyone_ but you. I feel like you've pulled my heart out of my chest and swallowed it, but that's okay, because it's _you_. ”

Kara inhales deeply, a mixture of hope and fear easily readable in her expression. It's finally out in the open, finally hitting her in the face that the affection she's felt for Lena all these months goes _way_ beyond a strong friendship, and she nervously waits for Lena to do something—leave, or slap her—but Lena just meets her gaze evenly, her face unreadable.

“It sounds like you're in love with me, Kara,” she says in a voice devoid of any inflection.

Feeling doubly self-conscious at the lack of response, Kara pushes her glasses up her nose. She's heard Lena speak with more emotion when she's ordering lunch and as she's wishing she could melt through the cement floor, the realization hits her like a runaway train.

Lena is not an emotional person by anyone's standards. She gives a valiant effort to appear cold-hearted to anyone that she perceives as a threat. Kara stares into Lena's eyes and swallows, because she knows what's happening even if her boss won't admit it to herself. Lena is trying desperately to keep her face blank and its taking all her concentration to keep her voice that even because Kara catches the flash of doubt behind the brunette's perfectly set expression, then responds with that absolutely characteristic Kara simplicity that never fails to catch Lena off guard.

“Then I guess I'm in love with you.”

Lena's eyes go dark and her armour starts to thaw. Her hand reaches forward and flattens against Kara's chest, her fingers curling in jerky movements as she seems to war with her own body about what she wants.

“Lena,” Kara breathes, and her composure evaporates completely.

She pulls Kara to her and crashes their lips together for a second time.

It's just as good as she remembered.

Kara doesn't respond immediately and Lena starts to pull away, worried that she's misread the signs, but as she leans back Kara's body roars to life and then she's being crushed against the door to the stairs and Kara's body is pressing into hers, her tongue searching Lena's mouth with a desperation she didn't know her mild-mannered assistant possessed.

Lena breaks away first, gasping, but Kara doesn't give her time to catch her breath. It's like her body is trying to mimic her words, showing Lena she can back up her speech by making her forget it in the feel of Kara's tongue on her skin. Her lips migrate downwards, paying particular attention to a freckle on Lena's neck, and the brunette whimpers at the sensation. When her teeth bite into the pale skin, Lena's hips buck forwards and she gasps loudly. Kara hums into her skin, nipping occasionally as her hands find the zipper to Lena's dress.

She slides it open with little effort then pauses to stare unabashedly at Lena's breasts nestled in a simple, black cotton bra. Running her fingertips over Lena's collarbone, she looks up with pure joy in her eyes.

A car starts several lanes away and Lena feels her face grow warm as she remembers where she is, who she's with.

“Kara,” she says unsteadily, her self-control evaporating, Kara's lips making it go faster. “Shouldn't we talk about this?”

Kara pulls her face away from Lena's skin long enough to take in the brunette's windswept appearance. Her dress is pulled off her shoulder, her lipstick is smudged, and her pupils are blown out. It's either an elaborate daydream, or Lena Luthor is standing in front of her, half-naked and _wanting_.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Her tone makes it a challenge, one that Lena is all too eager to rise to.

“Don't you dare.”

A hot, wet tongue swirls around her nipple and Lena's head falls back against the door, her breathing harsh and uneven. She pulls Kara up until they're kissing again, needing her closer, needing the heat radiating off of the blonde, and her brain lights up with fireworks at the fact that it's _Kara's heat, Kara's lips_ pressed to her bare chest, her mouth, her throat, burning against her collarbone.

Kara nibbles at her ear and sucks at the pulse pounding in her neck, and Lena lets out a high-pitched keening sound. She pulls Kara up again, wanting to inhale her, and bites down on her lip, eliciting a broken whine from the younger woman.

 _Kara, Kara, Kara_. Her pulse pounds in time to the only word in her head.

Kara's hand is resting right between her legs and Lena squeezes her thighs together, trying to wordlessly communicate what she needs. She feels fingers slip under the hem of her dress and whimpers as Kara's feather-light touch teases her, sliding over her already-soaked underwear.

“I've wanted to do this for _months_ ,” Kara growls, pulling her dress down. She takes in the swell of Lena's breasts, her narrow waist, the hips that flare out and make every single outfit of hers far too sexy for work.

“Then do it,” Lena commands in a last-ditch effort to retain control, and Kara drops to her knees in the parking garage as Lena's stomach drops in anticipation.

Kara nuzzles Lena's stomach and she is too far gone to be self-conscious about it. She usually doesn't like people touching it or even seeing it out of her tailored outfits, but Kara takes her time, her fingers still on Lena's underwear and her lips marking the soft parts of her belly like they're a national treasure.

She can't help it. She looks down at Kara, one hand fisting in the silky blonde hair, and pulls her head back so their eyes meet.

“You're beautiful,” she whispers hoarsely. “I've always wanted to say it.”

And then she gives up control.

Kara's spine tingles at the praise and she slides Lena's underwear down, admiring the curve of her legs and trailing kisses down the insides of her thighs.

She's about to ask Lena if she can go ahead when she glances up. Lena is biting down on her lip and looking at her with wild green eyes and an expression of awe mixed with wonder, and she thinks, maybe just this time, she doesn't have to ask permission, but she does.

“Can I—”

Lena is moaning before she even gets the words out. “Yes _, god, yes_.”

Her fingers slip in and start to move, each and every one of Lena's hair-raising moans urging her to continue.

“Kara, I need more, I need you to— _please_.”

It's bizarre, hearing Lena beg her for anything when she's used to crisp demands, but Kara reacts with a powerful eagerness. The novelty of the situation almost rattles her nerves but it's Lena, and Kara somehow knows that no matter what, she won't leave until her boss is more than satisfied.

That it's her _job_ to satisfy her.

_My boss._

The taboo of it all fuels her own orgasm, and something hot zips down below her belt as she adds a third finger, feeling Lena contract around them. The rush of liquid heat makes her confident and she slides her fingers out, and before Lena can protest, she shoves her face between her legs.

Lena's cunt is glistening, practically dripping, and the smell of sex coming off her drives Kara forwards. She hooks a still-heeled leg over her shoulder and licks a stripe right over the opening.

The brunette shudders, her cunt thrusting into Kara's mouth, and the breathy whimper that accompanies the surge makes Kara grin as she leans in for more.

Lena, meanwhile, is somewhere between _“this is a terrible idea”_ and _“please don't stop fucking me.”_ Any and all trace of her buttoned-up professionalism disintegrated at the feel of Kara's tongue and her head is blissfully empty of all higher thought. She always knew Kara was good at relaxing her on stressful workdays, but this is something else entirely.

“Oh, god, Kara, you're so—you're so good at this, what the _fuck_ —”

Kara's tongue dips in and out, marking Lena's clit with characters in a language only she knows. Through it all, the come that gets on her face, the hot, heavy breaths, the occasional jerk when she hits a particularly good spot, Lena keeps up a very vocal stream of praise.

“God, Kara, I—right there, I need—don't stop, oh fuck, oh fuck oh _fuck_ ,” she gasps, one hand trying to grip the door, the other still buried in Kara's hair. The string of words melts into an incomprehensible moan as her vision flares, the colors brightening.

It's all a little bit too much and Kara tries to pull herself back down to earth, but she feels like she's tripped into the 10th dimension. She is kneeling in the basement of her apartment building and eating out Lena Luthor, and Lena Luthor is _enjoying i_ t with a reckless abandon that Kara has never seen within the walls of L-Corp.

 _“Kara, Kara, oh god, Kara!”_ Lena is chanting her name and it's making her head spin, the sheer pleasure of getting Lena off sending her barreling to the edge.

Lena's voice rises in intensity and pitch and Kara keeps up her oral exercise. She could do this all day if she needed to, and she decides right then and there that eating Lena out is her new favorite thing to do.

Her grip tightens on Lena's thigh, nails digging into the flesh, and Lena screams her name, her vision going white. The tremors that go through her body flow into Kara, liquid and burning and wanting.

“Kara, I'm gonna come, i'mgonnacome—”

And she does, right into Kara's mouth. As she licks around the edges for more, her name still on Lena's lips, her free hand finds her own clit and it only takes her a few strokes to join Lena over the edge.

Neither of them moves for a while, breathing heavily and trying to take it all in. When Lena slides her trembling leg down to the floor, Kara stands, wiping her face off, half-holding the brunette upright on shaky legs.

Kara licks her lips and wipes her fingers on the hem of her flannel, but her stomach plummets at the look on Lena's face.

“Lena?” she says cautiously, searching the brunette's face for any sign of emotion.

Wide green eyes stare back at her, unfocused and a little bit wild, just like the day they kissed. They flash out at Kara from a usually pale face that's currently flushed with embarrassed pleasure.

“Are you okay?”

Kara holds Lena's face between her hands until her eyes clear, carefully concerned. Lena just nods, a minute dip of her chin, and Kara tries to figure out where she went wrong.

“Was it too much? I thought—are you crying?”

She asks the question without thinking, shocked at the sight of drying tear tracks on Lena's cheeks.

_I didn't even notice her crying, oh god, I've done this all wrong, she hates me._

Kara frets over Lean's wordless stoicism, hands fluttering around and fixing her appearance. She straightens her hair and gently zips her dress back up, her hand brushing the back of Lena's neck, the elegant curve of her spine. She caresses Lena's jaw, trying to coax an answer out of the silent woman.

“I need you to use your words,” she says gently and Lena's heart melts at Kara's patience with her, but she still can't open her mouth; it feels like the words have turned to glue and gotten stuck in her throat.

When it becomes apparent that Lena isn't capable of speaking, Kara seems a bit lost.

“Should I call your car?” she asks cautiously, not sure she wants to be known as the 'dine-and-dash' type, but she can't see another course of action available to her.

Lena shakes her head, her eyes trying to find Kara's. When they do, she swallows and says the first thing she can think of in a voice still hoarse from her screaming.

“So, you like me.”

Kara's laughter bounces off the walls and Lena laughs with her, her brain still rebooting after the best orgasm of her life.

“Yes, Yes! I'm in love with you, Lena. Isn't it obvious?”

_I'm in love with you._

_Isn't it obvious?_

Her words fail her. The concept of her attraction to Kara had been abstract, off-limits, for so long, that she's having a hard time believing that someone like Kara would like someone like her.

“You don't mind, that I'm, you know.”

“Mind what?” Kara's expression says she has no idea what Lena's about to say, and Lena's heart melts at all the possibilities that open before her. The trusting expression on Kara's face almost makes her say something else but there's no avoiding it. Not after that.

“A Luthor,” Lena says, her face twisting, just as Kara says “My boss?”


	3. Chapter 3

Kara goes over the scene again and again in her head, playing out the glorious moment Lena screamed her name.

And just like the kiss, she has no idea what she did wrong but Lena hasn't spoken to her. Like, not a single _word_ outside of an order in the last week after she mumbled something about being a Luthor and running for her car.

She thought this time would be different, that Lena would take her declaration of love as an open door—and after what they did, how could she _not_? But the woman is stubbornly professional and infuriatingly calm when she instructs Kara to do inane tasks, even as Kara daydreams about her insanely sexy body underneath all her clothes that probably cost more than Kara's entire flat.

When Lena had let those words escape her, her last name and everything that came with it, she was prepared for Kara to rebuff her. What she wasn't prepared for was her own body rebuffing her. While her mind, after years of being burned immediately retreated to its corner, her body was screaming at her every second of every day to call Kara into her office, lock the door and repay the favor.

Instead of talking about her feelings, because she was never very good at that even before living with the Luthors, she left the parking garage in a haze, climbing into the back of her car and pressing a numb finger to the biometric lock, throwing all her clothes onto the floor and passing out before she could overthink it.

Because overthinking is what she does best, and the only way to stave off the visceral reaction her body has to the sight of Kara is to force herself to be even more professional, even more conservative. She can't stop it, it's like a reflex that starts in her chest and ends up below her waist, and she curses the day Kara Danvers walked into her office because Lena Luthor has no idea what to do when someone loves her.

Not that she loves her back. That's completely out of the question because she's her boss, because she's a Luthor, because Kara is _Kara_ , all smiling and warm and golden and smelling of vanilla and sunlight and impossibly cheery even in the worst of times—

“Good morning, Ms. Luthor.” Kara hands the steaming cup to Lena and bites her lip, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Thank you, Ms. Danvers.”

Lena's jaw flexes and they both stay silent until they're inside her office with the door closed.

“So. You have a board meeting in 10 and then that interview with the reporter from Cat Co. Magazine. After that—”

“Cat Co? What could they possibly be interested in here?” Lena purses her lips at the thought and sets her coffee down, leaning on her desk.

Trying to maintain Lena's same level of professionalism, Kara straightens her blouse and puts her hands behind her back, forcing herself to look Lena in the eye. “It's about the alien tech you developed? They want to know about its practical applications in the home.”

“Right, right,” Lena mutters, sitting down and crossing her legs. She pretends to focus on her computer screen but her eyes flick up and down Kara's body and her jaw flexes again. “That will be all, Ms. Danvers.”

Kara opens her mouth to say something and Lena is bracing herself for some kind of verbal lashing when the phone rings.

“I'll leave you to it,” the blonde says in a disappointed tone, turning to go, and as much as Lena wants to call her back in, she lets her leave.

“Nice one, Lena,” she mutters under her breath before answering the call.

_“Ms. Luthor, it's the board for you...”_

Kara closes the door on Lena and lets out a long sigh. It's been the same treatment for the last five days; they go through the motions, somehow together all day but never talking about anything important. She thought she had Lena figured out, thought that she sensed things were going both ways, but apparently the CEO was just in it for a quick fuck and then it was back to business.

That was fine with Kara. Lena Luthor was about to see how 'back to business' she could get.

* * *

Another week passes and it's not lost on either of them that Kara still comes in to read every evening. It's slightly awkward and the air feels so tense it's almost unbearable, but neither of them back down. It's like they can feel each other refusing to give in and it keeps them both awake, eyes down, working diligently, missing the glances they constantly shoot each other. Kara ends up staying in the office until 3 in the morning more often than not, and half the time she wants to blurt out all the questions floating around her head and the other half she just wants to feel Lena's fingers digging through her hair, but they say nothing and she slowly goes insane.

_What happened?_

_I fucked her. That's what happened. I ruined everything._

“Ms. Danvers, would you get the draft from Gary down on 4? I told him I'd revise it before he sent it to the panel.”

“Yes ma'am,” Kara says in a slightly sarcastic tone, ducking out before she can see Lena's reaction. When she returns she can sense something is distinctly different about the brunette but she just hands her the files, unable to meet the bright green eyes she knows are inches away. Her brain is screaming at her to grab Lena's wrist but she forces herself to sit back down, her body moving almost robotically, and opens her book to stare at the same sentence.

Lena, meanwhile, is gritting her teeth so hard her jaw is getting sore. She had gotten in the habit of chatting with Kara when her work got dull and hasn't spoken to her best friend—her only friend—in such a long time she feels like she may implode, but she just plasters a prim smile on her face and goes back to work.

“Thank you, Ms. Danvers.”

On the second Friday after the parking garage incident, Kara barely makes it through the day, constantly thinking about Lena and constantly catching herself. It's miserable and exhausting and she's sitting at home with a pint of ice cream and a job searching website open on her laptop when her phone buzzes.

“Hey, Alex.”

“Hey. You sound bummed. Still nothing from cold-hearted Luthor?”

“Don't call her that,” Kara says, only half-adamant.

“I'm only teasing,” Alex clarifies, but Kara has already gone off.

“I don't understand. I told her everything and she listened and then I fucked her, for Christ's sake, and now she won't even look me in the eye! Does she just not like me at all?” Her voice gets higher and higher as she vents to her sister, frantic exasperation coming across the phone in a squawk.

“Kara, come on. You know that's not true or she wouldn't have relentlessly flirted with you, in front of me _and_ our mother.”

Leaning forward on her counter, Kara blows out a breath, clinging to the life preserver her sister just threw her. “Since when did you defend Lena?”

“Since you're the one that told me to treat her like a regular human being. Look, from what I know about Lena Luthor she's got a mysterious past that was less than idyllic, so maybe she's just not ready to commit. Maggie didn't tell me everything right off the bat, and she wasn't even raised by sociopaths. Maybe you two should _have a conversation_.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that when she won't even look at me!?” Kara says indignantly, the phone buzzing against her ear. “She just tells me to get her a coffee and I have to pretend like it's a normal day with my normal boss who I didn't fuck over Thanksgiving. I have a call coming in.”

“Gross, do you have to keep bringing that up?” Alex groans, but her voice is muted by the roaring in Kara's ears.

She's so confused by the contact name, L _ena Luthor,_ that it takes her a moment to answer and her voice is hoarse with surprise.

“Hello?”

“Kara! Hello.” Lena's voice is unusually bright and breathy and Kara's forehead crinkles. “I didn't wake you, did I?”

“It's...it's 1 in the morning, Lena,” Kara says slowly, getting whiplash from the change in attitude. Where was this friendliness when Kara went down to the coffee cart earlier? Or in the last two weeks when Kara tried and painfully failed to start a conversation, only to be sent off on another errand that they both knew was just to get her away from Lena?

“Shoot. I did, didn't I?” Lena sounds disappointed and despite her best efforts, Kara rushes to reassure her, forgetting to stick to the formal tone her boss has enforced the last two weeks.

“No, no. I was—I'm awake. What's wrong, do you need help with something?”

Lena's answer is confusing and heavy and makes her sit up straight, the ice cream forgotten on her counter.

“You could say that. Actually, you wouldn't mind coming over, would you?”

Fifteen minutes later (it could have been ten if she didn't brush her teeth and check her outfit three times) she's driving to Lena's apartment, both hands gripping the wheel at ten and two, psyching herself up. Whatever it is that has Lena asking her for help after midnight on a Friday evening is a blessing and a curse; she doesn't think she can last one more second with Lena and her cold indifference but she desperately wants to see the brunette again, especially outside the walls of L-Corp.

She paces outside Lena's apartment door for several minutes trying to calm herself down and convince herself that this won't change anything, but she can't find it within her to deny it. For better or worse, this is the last straw; the conversation they've been avoiding has to happen tonight. What happened in the garage was more of a monologue, just Kara rambling on and on, and she probably frightened Lena off and came on way too strong but Lena definitely wanted it, hell, she _begged_ for it—

_Focus, Danvers._

Raising a weary hand to knock, Kara runs her other hand through her hair and adjusts her glasses. She steels herself for another hour of being Lena’s faithful assistant, another hour of pretending her heart isn’t squeezing itself to death in her chest, another hour of pretending she never said she loved her.

Her eyes flick up and she takes a step back at the sound of locks disengaging. It takes every ounce of willpower she has not to let out a slightly strangled squeak at the sight that greets her, but she swallows it down, her throat tightening.

The woman that stands in the doorway can't be Lena. She's short and soft-looking, hair slightly mussed, glass of wine in her hand and bare feet against the wood floor. Her eyes are half-lidded and glittering with barely contained energy even as the bags under her eyes stand out in the harsh lighting, a t-shirt with a sloth on the front pulling down over one shoulder.

This version of Lena doesn't make Kara want to act professional and follow orders. This version of Lena makes Kara want to wrap her arms around her and never let go, to protect her from the outside world and keep her close until the day she dies. It's not the side that Lena usually shows the world, in fact it's the opposite of the clean-cut, intimidating boss.

She loves this side of Lena even more.

“Kara! You came.” Lena sounds a bit breathless, like she's surprised at the sight of Kara on her doorstep, and Kara clears her throat.

“Of course I came, Lena,” she says tiredly. She doesn't understand how Lena can go from best friends to strangers in an instant. Kara's been trying for several days and she knows there are cracks where it shines through, times when she's had to duck around a corner or keep her back turned for an extra second to hide how much this cold shoulder is affecting her.

“Right.” Making no effort to invite her in, Lena shifts her weight and eyes the hallway behind her. “You didn't, ah...you didn't see Jack by any chance, on your way up?”

The flush of embarrassment rises up Kara's neck as Lena's words process through her brain, warming her cheeks just as she opens her mouth to respond, a whole new kind of rejection washing through her.

“I'm not the only one you called tonight, am I.”

“Well, you see,” Lena starts slowly, guilt in her eyes. She looks nervous, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction, and Kara feels it in her chest.

“I'm not even the first one. Am I?” Kara's voice raises, desperate to be proven wrong, her blood roaring in her ears. _How did I read all the signs so wrong?_

“Kara, it's not like that,” Lena hurries, her words clumsily slipping out. “I didn't mean—look, how was I supposed to know that you would come here? It's so late, and I, I was—” The intense expression that was working across her face melts into something like relief and Kara feels the sting of rejection for the second time that night.

“Lena? What's going on?”

Jack swoops in behind her, pulling Lena into his arms.

“Kara, hey. What's going on?” He repeats himself directly to Lena's face and succeeds in wrestling out the answer that Kara couldn't get.

“I'm drunk,” Lena says simply, smiling at his familiar face, and Kara watches them with a heartbroken expression and a pulling in her chest that doesn't seem to go away no matter how many times she takes a deep breath.

“I can see that, love.” He guides her into the apartment and steals the glass from her, setting it down with a clink. “Are you coming in or not?”

Kara shakes herself out of her stupor, pointing at herself. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Come in and stop looking like a kicked puppy,” he says, hitting a little too close to home for Kara's taste, but she follows, locking the door behind her. “Have a seat,” he instructs her, pushing Lena down onto the couch.

There isn't anywhere else to sit so Kara takes her place on the opposite side of the couch, her back ramrod straight. Lena's eyes follow Jack as he moves around the kitchen, sounds of cabinets opening and water running in the background.

“So. Now that you've got us all together, what could you possibly hope to achieve?” Jack sounds almost angry and Kara is surprised by the harshness of his tone.

Lena senses the animosity radiating from the two of them and curls in on herself, hands wrapped around the glass of water Jack shoved at her. “I didn't mean anything,” she whispers. She avoids making eye contact with either of them and settles for staring at the couch instead.

“Sure.” Jack rolls his eyes and watches Kara sitting uncomfortably on the edge of her seat. “This is typical Lena,” he says in an annoyed tone. “She can't make a decision so she forces someone else to make it for her.”

“What are you talking about? That's not at all like Lena,” Kara says defensively.

“Begging your pardon, but the Lena you see at work is clearly not the Lena I know from the years I've spent with her,” he says matter-of-factly.

He doesn't mean to hurt her but he does and her face heats up as she deflates. “Right.” With a concerned glance at Lena, she stands and straightens her pants. “I guess I'll be going then,” she says in a painfully small voice.

“Don't be ridiculous.” Jack hasn't even bothered to take off his coat and he holds out a hand. “I'll go. This is just the Luthor way of dealing with things.”

“What do you mean?” Kara still doesn't sit, embarrassed and confused by the sudden turn of events.

“She just wants to see who will stick it out the longest. If you leave now, her family wins. I'll always be here for her and she knows that, but we're better off as friends. Trust me. She wants you here.”

As Kara digests this, Jack strolls past her to the door. “Don't look like that, love. You have what it takes.” With a boyish wink, he disappears down the hall and Kara sits back down, utterly drained of energy.

Lena, who had been sitting silently since Jack sat her down, breaks the silence.

“You came.”

Rubbing at her temples, Kara nods. “I did.”

“Is it because I'm your boss?”

Kara lets out a derivative snort and raises her head, not meeting her gaze directly. “Sure, that's—”

She sounds like Jack. She sounds like a friend who's used to this kind of behaviour and tired of it, and she catches herself just in time.

“That's not why I came.”

“Then why?”

A considerable time passes before Kara answers her, the last two weeks of stress and falsities falling away into one tired statement.

“You know why, Lena.”

The brunette's eyes are still on the floor and she looks so sad and soft and beautiful that Kara scoots closer to her, sticking out a hand in an olive branch.

It's like waiting for a baby animal to get used to her, the way the Lena slowly relaxes and inches forwards, her hand slipping over Kara's, feather-light and warm to the touch.

Kara almost pulls away from the violent twist in her gut at the sensation but stops herself just in time.

 _It’s always me holding back, it’s her seeming so unphased, it’s_ —

“I really can’t do this anymore, Lena,” the blonde whispers.

“Can’t do what.” It doesn’t even sound like a question in Lena’s mouth and Kara swallows down her nerves.

_She’s not clueless, this is just Lena. This is just her needing me to say it out loud because she can’t. This is what Jack meant._

“I can’t keep acting like nothing happened between us. I can’t keep pretending like I don’t have feelings for you, like I don’t care that you’re ignoring me.” The words come out in a rush and Kara scans the brunette’s face for signs of distress but nothing reveals itself.

Lena, meanwhile, sobers up quickly at the earnest tone. She can see the hurt in Kara’s eyes and berates herself for letting her old habits take over; if she’s trying to remake herself into a new woman, she’s doing a bang-up job.

“I can’t—I don’t mean to ignore you. I just—I was afraid and I ran. Away from you, from how I feel,” Lena says under her breath. It’s desperate and hushed and barely audible and Kara has to lean forward to catch the end of her sentence and the wonder in the words. “But you still came.” 

“Of course I did, Lena. I didn’t really have a choice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I never have a choice when it’s you. You know that. You’ve known it since that first night I sat outside your office reading until 2 in the morning. You’ve known it since I told you I loved you,” Kara admits, her eyes watering at the sheer vulnerability in her own voice. “Please say something, Lena,” she begs, lacing their fingers together. “Please tell me I’m not crazy and there’s something here.”

Lena doesn’t say anything for a while. She’s deciding, letting the war play out between the two sides of her mind. One side is screaming at her that she doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve _Kara,_ and the other side is yelling just as loudly that this is exactly what she needs. While it plays out she silently stares at their hands on the couch, fully aware of Kara sitting inches away, her body humming with pent up energy. It’s another few minutes before she looks up, the green of her eyes almost completely swallowed by black.

“You’re not crazy,” she whispers, feeling a whole different kind of drunk on the way Kara is looking at her.

“I’m not?” Kara whispers back, shifting her weight on the couch. Lena can feel the energy buzzing from Kara’s body to hers and she bites her lip, her confidence wavering.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” she says quietly, unable to look away from the intensity of Kara’s gaze.

Kara’s lips quirk up at the corners in a sad smile. “Like what?”

“Like I mean something to you,” Lena says in a small voice.

Taking her time, Kara says her next words very slowly, careful not to shatter the fragile confidence Lena has in herself.“Lena Luthor, you mean _everything_ to me.”

A tiny mewling noise escapes from Lena’s throat and she blinks unbelievingly. Clear blue rings the blown-out pupils staring back at her and she takes a steadying breath, leaning in slowly and giving Kara plenty of time to turn her down.

The wall of resistance she was expecting doesn’t hit her. Kara leans forwards, more eager than Lena is to close the distance between them, and a second later soft lips are on hers. She feels tears on her cheeks but can’t tell which one of them is crying, too caught up in the gasps and moans coming from deep in Kara’s chest.

After a minute she pulls away, breathing heavily. 

“I never got to return the favor,” she says in a breathy voice as Kara bites down on her neck. The spike of pleasure that accompanies the act makes her voice shoot up an octave. “Can I—”

“Only if I fuck you first,” Kara murmrs against Lena’s collarbone.

_How is she so smooth? A second ago she was about to give up on us._

“Don’t you think—it’s my turn?” Lena huffs in surprise when Kara stands, picking her up like she weighs nothing.

Kara doesn’t answer her, just shoulders her way into Lena’s bedroom and tosses the brunette down onto the bed. Lena barely catches her breath before Kara is straddling her, trapping her under solid muscles and the warm weight of her body bearing down.

“You may be my boss, Lena, but I’m the one who gives the orders in here.”

Something about the way Kara growls out those words makes Lena more desperate and she pulls at her shirt until it’s over her head and lying on the floor. There’s a pause in Kara’s advances as she stares and Lena hesitates, suddenly unsure of herself.

“Kara?” Lena tenses at the silence, afraid she's done something wrong. She knows loves Kara even if she hasn't said it out loud yet; Kara is everything she wants, everything she needs, even when she doesn't know exactly what that is.

Kara, meanwhile, is staring fixedly at her chest and Lena takes advantage of the moment to run her hands over the blonde’s side, marveling at the feeling of muscle and sinew just under the skin. The motion sends shivers down Kara’s spine and she pins Lena’s hands above her head, making her squirm with anticipation.

“You do know,” Lena says, trying and failing to keep her voice casual, “what I have to do if—if we decidetokeepgoing.”

“And what’s that?” Kara asks, her lips burning against Lena’s sternum with every word.

“I’ll have to fire you,” Lena gasps, her back arching up to meet Kara’s torso.

Kara freezes, but when she looks up at Lena green eyes are shining back at her, happiness written clearly across her expression.

“So you’re saying…”

“We’ll work it out,” Lena says quickly, not wanting Kara to pause for a moment longer than absolutely necessary. “There are strict rules about dating subordinates at L-Corp, but we’ll work it out.”

The next second she’s completely forgotten about rules of any sort because Kara presses on, paying particular attention to her stomach as she makes her way down. Right as the blonde is sliding her underwear down, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

“I love you too, Kara.”


End file.
